The Voiceless
by jarmrcc1
Summary: Beacon Hills was a quiet town. That was until people started being killed in random 'mountain lion' attacks. As the supernatural world begins to merge with the human world, is the human population of Beacon Hills really ready to face the truth of the world, or are they willing to stay in ignorant bliss? *Eventual Stiles/OC*
1. Chapter 1 - Emma Moore

I don't own _Teen Wolf_ or any of the characters other than my own, all rights go to the respective owners.

* * *

><p>There is something magical about being a child; when a wooden stick has the power to transform into a sword forged by woodland elves and blessed by a wizard, or a laser gun used by soldiers on the finest spaceship in the entire galaxy. When you are a child a name no longer has a simple meaning: Charlie who lives at number fourteen becomes Charlie the Ruler of the Universe (and this newly born title must be respected). In the world of a child there are no limitations: the ability to move objects with the power of thought is a real possibility and no matter what anyone says, the glass of orange juice did move an inch. Whole conversations can take place on a plastic block moulded to resemble a phone and the imaginary tea a child makes is the most delicious thing in the world. Life is full of colour and imagination and carelessness – the only thing a child has to worry about is getting caught while playing hide and seek. A back garden is a jungle of possibilities and hidden treasures just waiting to be discovered by an eager explorer. Children view the world with wide open eyes and can find fascination in the smallest of things; even watching a snail creeping across the ground can be transformed into the most exciting Formula 1 race. Children listen with rapt attention to bedtime stories about knights and princesses, dragons and mermaids, kings and queens and imagine themselves travelling on brave quests or diving under the sea to have lunch with the mermaids. There are endless possibilities that exist within the mind of a child. A child can be a fairy, a wizard and a warrior all at once with only other children to tell them to pick one thing but of course the rule of "it's my game" stops all these arguments in their tracks. To be a child is to live with freedom and hope, to laugh at the silliest things and to cry without any true reason, to be able to stand under the tallest tree and want nothing more than to climb to the top and conquer the world. There are not really any repercussions to any action and only minor consequences for misbehaviour. To be a child is truly a wonderful thing.<p>

That is until the child begins to grow. Slowly the sword and laser gun begin to resemble a wooden stick more and more and Charlie really is just a name. The glass of orange juice does not move an inch nor even budge at all. The plastic box is replaced by a real phone and conversations are no longer pretend; the tea is no longer delicious but simply vacant air. Life remains full of colour but as the child grows the colours become less vibrant and are only really acknowledged when something spectacular occurs. Worries begin to increase and slowly but surely the child is no longer carefree. A garden is now just full of weeds which must be pulled from the ground and the grass cut regularly. Snails are simply snails and Formula 1 is watched on the television. Books allow an escape back to the fascination of a child even if the content has matured. A child begins to grow and: "it's my game" is no longer a valid excuse (the rule book must be consulted). The child begins to notice that not everyone is free and not everyone has hope. The child begins to learn to not react emotionally to everything and begins to learn the concept of internalisation. The child begins to think that they cannot climb the tallest tree and conquer the world and actions have larger repercussions and consequences; and, all too soon, the child is no longer a child.

At eight years old, Emma Moore stopped being a child. Her childhood ended sitting in a hospital waiting room surrounded by flickering florescent lights in the middle of a brutal storm. As nurses and doctors scurried by her, they did not stop to notice the girl with crystal tears staining her cheeks, nor did they notice her silent stare. No one noticed Emma sitting on her hands as they gradually numbed and lost their grip on her innocence. Her eyes had stopped crying but remained open, unblinking at the wall across the hall from her. Emma's little eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she counted the white squares on the wall, wishing that by the time she counted them all that the day would reset and the world would be whole again. She wished that she could wake up in her bed again and not insist that her father take her to the movies. She wished that she hadn't been tired of watching the same videos over and over again. She wished her father hadn't given into her demands when the rain had just started falling. She wished that the rain had not picked up at such an alarming rate. She wished that her father had continued walking to the movies instead of seeking shelter in a bus stop. She wished that the owner of the red car had not lost control of the wheel and veered off the side of the road and straight into her father. But there were no genies to grant her wishes and she did not have the ability to rewind time. In that moment, Emma ceased being a child.

Emma's father died on the operating table that night at 11:11pm.

* * *

><p>On a warm mid-August day when Emma was fourteen, she was forced to become an adult.<p>

The sun had beaten down on Emma's fiery hair as she lounged in her garden, a book in one hand and a glass of lemonade in the other. Her sunglasses shielded her eyes from the blistering sun and her headphones shielded her ears from picking up any sound alerting her that something was amiss in the house behind her. It took Emma until the last drop of ice melted in her drink for her to find her mother lying on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood.

As Emma sat in the hospital waiting room for the doctors to help Emma's mother, she recalled that she was sitting in the exact same seat she had sat in to wait for news of her father's condition.

At eleven minutes past eleven that same night, Emma was told that her mother was in recovery. The kindly nurse, whose curly black hair bounced as she walked, had smiled at Emma and led her into the room her mother was sleeping in. Emma had held her mother's hand and swept her thumb in small soothing lines across the back of her hand. As she watched her mother sleeping, she felt herself leaving her teenage years behind. She promised that she would scrutinise the men her mother tried to date, hoping that her mother would never end up in the hospital again. As she sat by her mother's hospital bed, Emma hated herself. She hated to believe that she had missed the signs that her mother's new boyfriend was trouble; she had always felt that something was off with him but had given into her mother's insistence that he was a 'good guy'. Emma instinctively knew that he was the reason her mother had ended up in the hospital.

The next day Emma's suspicions were confirmed: her mother's boyfriend was arrested for attempted murder.

* * *

><p>When Emma was sixteen, she did not realise that she was close to losing another part of herself. On a sunny morning, as she readied herself for school, that event was far away.<p>

On that morning, as her world began to slowly change, she was beginning to stir from her fitful – though short – sleep. Her blue and white striped curtains graciously blocked the sun from entering her bedroom before she was ready to face the day. An urgent beeping began to filter into her consciousness and, with a grunt, was quickly silenced by a firm slap to an alarm clock. Emma retracted her hand and rubbed at her eyes (which were unwilling to open). She threw her arms over her head and stretched her toes, letting out a yawn as she did so, embracing the feeling of her muscles stretching. Rolling out of bed with a sigh, the girl padded her way across the cream hallway and into the bathroom. The girl closed the bathroom door behind her and switched on the far too bright light. Squinting in the suddenly bright bathroom, Emma could finally take in her morning appearance and groaned when she saw the chaos on top of her head. She had fallen asleep with her hair pulled into a bun as it was still slightly damp from her shower the night before. Strands of red hair stuck out at every angle with sections having fallen out of the bun and trailed their way down her back or were framing her face. She turned the tap on and let the cool water splash into the sink and swirl down the drain before washing her face and shuddering from the cold. Yanking her hair out of its tie, she let out a sharp yelp as strands of hair were pulled from her scalp accidentally and groaned once more; she was not a morning person.

Her morning routine would normally only occupy a short amount of time; however, she had fallen into the awful habit of doing absolutely nothing until she had to rush so that she wasn't late for school. She had made the decision the previous night that that year would be different: she would not procrastinate in the morning, she would pack her school bag the night before and would organise herself so that her morning would be a complete state of bliss. That did not happen. So, while she procrastinated dressing, she began packing her black leather satchel bag – a birthday present from her mother – with a few notepads, a variety of pens and all of the standard school equipment. When she figured she had wasted enough time, she finally dressed herself and carefully applied a little bit of makeup to make herself look awake. Emma narrowed her eyes at her reflection, annoyed that no matter how much concealer she applied, her dark under-eye circles appeared to be a permanent fixture on her face.

Emma tiptoed from her bedroom towards the kitchen, hoping that she wouldn't wake her mother. Luckily, Emma could hear soft snoring filter out of her mother's bedroom. She knew that her mother had trouble sleeping, brought on by the frequent nightmares her mother lied about having. Emma could often hear her mother pottering about the house late at night through to the early hours of the morning. It wasn't often that Emma was awake before her mother but when it did happen Emma was extra careful to make as little noise as possible. Her mother, Delia, tried to shield her from her anxiety but Emma could see past her mother's happy charade. Whenever Delia thought that Emma couldn't see her, the mask was dropped and true sadness appeared in the woman's eyes. Emma's mother and father (Delia and Mike) had started dating when they were fourteen and had decided that they never wanted to spend another day apart and had married when they were only nineteen; they were the closest thing to soul mates that Emma had ever encountered and it was therefore understandable that Delia was completely and utterly wrecked by Mike's untimely death. For months after the car crash that had stripped Mike of his life, Delia could barely function so Sheriff Stilinski had stepped in to help care for Emma. Throughout her entire life, Sherriff Stilinski had been a second father to Emma – he was Mike's closest friend after all – and when the accident had occurred there was no way he could have even thought of letting Delia and Emma Moore fend for themselves. Though the Sherriff was still struggling with the loss of his own wife, he and his son Stiles had looked after Delia and Emma and helped them get through the worst of their suffering. It was Sherriff Stilinski who had organised Mike's funeral when Delia couldn't cope with the loss.

Before leaving her house, Emma quickly grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl she had disastrously painted when she was six and the lunch her mother had made for her the night before.

As Emma walked to school, a police cruiser drove past her which instantly made her think of the sheriff and his son. The sheriff's son had a rather unusual name which he never told anyone, not even to Emma or to Scott McCall though they used to be best friends, preferring to be called Stiles instead. Stiles Stilinski was an unusual name to say the least, but Emma always thought that it suited the slightly unusual boy. She often regretted the way in which her friendship with Stiles had ended after her father's funeral: she had pushed him away and told him she didn't need him when in reality it was the opposite. She had refused to let him comfort her and had said some things that she really didn't mean. And though many years had passed, and she was certain that Stiles had forgiven her, the two had never really reconnected. They still spoke to each other on occasion, most often when they were given group work to do in classes, but they never regained the familiarity they once had with one another.

The void left by Stiles in Emma's life had been filled by Jessica Reynolds. Emma and Jessica had not been friends, nor acknowledged each other's existence, before Emma's father's funeral. But when Jessica had found Emma crying on the school bathroom floor, she had adopted Emma as her newest friend. Jessica had pulled Emma to her feet and looked right into her eyes and smiled; they never said anything as Jessica wiped Emma's tears away. A form of silent communication had passed between the two as they leaned against the sinks and waited for Emma's sobs to pass. Without ever having spoken to Emma, Jessica instinctively knew that she did not like people seeing her cry. And so they stayed in the bathroom in silence, Emma secretly grateful that she wasn't alone and Jessica happy that she had gotten the lonely girl to stop crying. Jessica had grabbed Emma's hand and had rubbed soothing circles into it with her thumb while Emma clung on for dear life, trying to grab hold of some sort of stability. Since that day in mid-October Emma and Jessica – Ems and Jess – had barely spent a day apart and despite a few curious eyebrows being raised at the start of their friendship, they had never thought of each other as anything other than 'best friend'.

Without realising how much time had passed, Emma soon found herself situated outside of her school and began to blend in with the other students who were gradually making their way up the wide steps and into the school itself or as Emma's friend Jessica liked to call it: 'a torture chamber of Hell'.

"Emma! Hey, wait up!" A shrill voice sounded behind her, making her spin around to look for the shouter.

The shouter appeared from behind a mass of people and revealed herself to be short blonde girl whose extremely curly hair bounced as she jogged to catch up to Emma. Jogging wasn't exactly the appropriate way to describe the way the blonde was approaching Emma, she resembled more like Bambi walking on ice as she teetered in her blue heels. The heels belonged to Emma's best friend Jessica who was quite obviously the opposite of Emma. While Emma had donned jeans and a t-shirt, Jessica had chosen to wear a dress with a white lacy skirt and sleeveless denim top half, she wore a white cardigan on top of that and had a small blue and gold watch attached to her right wrist. A pair of pearl earrings could be seen through Jessica's masses of curly hair and her denim blue backpack thumped against her back as she made her way to Emma.

"Well hello Mrs Radio Silence. Where have you been for the last week? I was beginning to think you were avoiding me". Jessica pouted but before Emma could so much as think of reminding her that it had only been a day since they last spoke, Jessica had linked her arm through Emma's and was marching them into the school. Emma stifled a laugh as Jessica never even took a breath before continuing. "You will never guess what Ryan said to me, I was so severely irritated and went off on one at him. We got into this massive fight and now we're not speaking. Well we haven't spoken since last night but still. Now, you listen to me Emma Moore, I realised that he actually didn't do anything wrong but I'm still annoyed with him so we're not talking to him today. I repeat: _we're _not talking to him. So that means that _you're_ not talking to him either and the official Ryan Lucas boycott begins right now".

Emma couldn't help but laugh at her friend as she rambled. Jessica and her boyfriend Ryan were constantly fighting but Emma knew that as soon as lunch rolled round Jessica and Ryan would be lovey dovey once more. Noticing Emma's sceptical look on her face, Jessica stopped walking and gave Emma a stern look, saying:

"I'm serious this time Ems, we are not talking to him".

Emma rolled her eyes but nodded anyway in the hope that that would satisfy her friend. It seemed to do the trick as Jessica flashed a beaming grin and linked their arms together once more. A part of Emma thought that Jessica was only holding onto her so that she wouldn't fall over but she didn't voice this opinion, instead she chose to listen to Jessica moan about the latest episode of some TV show she was watching and how her favourite characters just wouldn't see that they were perfect for one another.

"Jess, hey…um, Jessica? Can we, uh…can we talk?" A sheepish voice sounded from the right of the two girls.

Jessica glanced at the boy who had spoken and frowned before slowly nodding. The boy made to move towards the school but stopped when he noticed that Jessica wasn't following him. His shoulders slumped as he turned nervously to face Jessica. _Poor Ryan, _Emma thought as she chose to give the two a little privacy by taking a step back and zoning out of their conversation. Her mind began to wander before her attention was grabbed by two boys talking animatedly at the bottom of the school stairs: Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall. However, being the distance she was from the two boys, she was unable to hear their conversation about California's lack of wolves and severed bodies which would have been an unusual conversation for any passer-by to overhear. What made the conversation truly intriguing was Scott McCall's insistence he had been bitten by a wolf and revealed a bandage taped to his side underneath his shirt. Of the course this exchange was unnoticed by Emma who had returned her attention to Jessica and Ryan who had almost completely forgotten the previous night's argument (judging by the lack of space between their locked lips).

Emma had been best friends with Stiles Stilinski ever since they swapped crayons on their first day of Kindergarten (his blue crayon for her red one) and eventually spent more and more time together in the police station waiting for their fathers to wrap up whatever paperwork they had to finish. The two would sit in the Sheriff's office with their coloring books: Emma trying as hard as she could to stay within the lines while Stiles… it's safe to say that the Sheriff's desk was always a little more _colorful_ after a visit from Stiles. Or they would play 'pretend' and fight each other with their magic powers. However these games would always end quickly as they both always seemed to have a limitless supply of healing potion in their pockets and one would always accuse the other of cheating. Of course they would always have their other best friend – Scott McCall – to resolve these fights. The three had been inseparable when they were younger; if there was ever any trouble, you could expect to find Emma, Scott and Stiles at the centre of it. That had all changed when Emma, in her grief, pushed the boys away.

Emma felt a tap on her shoulder and looked round to find Jessica looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"You seriously need to stop zoning out Ems, I've been trying to get your attention for, like, ten minutes," Jessica whined. "Come on, I want to sort my locker out before class".

Jessica reached up to Ryan and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek which made him blush ever so slightly before linking her arm with Emma's once more. Ryan had always been head over heels for Jessica and something as simple as a peck on the cheek could make his day. Emma had always thought that Jessica and Ryan were good together and had actively encouraged Jessica to agree to date Ryan when she was too insecure to believe that he would really have feelings for her. Jessica had finally built up enough confidence to say yes to Ryan and had never once regretted it (despite the fights they sometimes found themselves in). The two girls left Ryan behind them with a goofy smile on his face and made their way through the double doors and into the school.

Beacon Hills High School was like any other normal high school: rows of lockers lined the hallways, posters encouraging students to embrace their potential cluttered notice boards and students drifted from place to place already back in the school mind-set. There were the occasional bursts of laughter amongst the chattering students, the slamming of locker doors, the scuffing of trainers and the zipping of bags all added to the standard feeling of high school. Emma could smell someone's overuse of cologne mixing with a spritz of hairspray and the cleaning products used to scrub the floors for the arriving students.

"What happened with you and Ryan?" Emma inquired. "I thought we were boycotting him?"

"Nah, neither of us can remember what we were fighting about so, you know, forgive and forget and all that. Besides, his lips are too nice not to kiss," Jessica giggled as Emma sent her a playful glare.

"Didn't need to know that."

"You're just jealous because you're not getting none of this". Jessica winked at Emma and shook her hips before releasing a belting laugh, her anger of a few minutes previous completely forgotten.

"Yeah, that's exactly what it is. I just can't get enough of you Jess".

Jessica stuck her tongue out at Emma and flounced towards her locker, pulling Emma along with her. The friends had lockers beside one another and so were able to continue their conversation before they were interrupted by the tell-tale _click clack _of high heels. Lydia Martin had just strutted into the school. She flicked her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and wiggled her fingers in greeting at a few of the other students. Lydia was what you could describe as a 'Queen Bee'; she had the brains, the popularity, the looks, the boyfriend, the works. The mere mention of Lydia Martin's name would cause a variety of words to spill out of the other students mouths: 'beautiful', 'smart', 'gorgeous' with a few mentions of her being a 'heinous bitch' thrown in the mix. However, Jessica and Emma were amongst the few who Lydia deemed important enough to speak to. As Lydia flounced passed the two girls she waved at them and greeted them with a 'good morning girls', before walking around a corner and disappearing from sight.

The bell signalling that classes were about to begin rang shrilly from above the girl's heads and the two parted ways with promises to save each other a seat at lunch.

As Emma entered her first class of the day, the first thing she noticed was that she was to share the class with both Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski. The second thing she noticed was that there were only two seats left available to her, both of which were behind the two boys. Emma never went out of her way to avoid the boys, but she never went out of her way to engage with them either. As such, it did not bother her that she would have to sit in such a close proximity to either of them.

Stiles on the other hand had clocked Emma as she entered the room but, as he normally did when Emma was involved, immediately looked away as if he had been stung. When Emma's father had died, Stiles had been there for her; much to his father's annoyance, he had snuck out of the house on many occasions because Emma had phoned him in the middle of the night in tears. Stiles never wanted Emma to feel alone. Stiles was hurt to say the least when Emma shut him out, and had tried again and again to reason with her, but she had refused to let him in. Emma had been incredibly angry and had turned that anger on Stiles and their friend Scott, though Stiles had admittedly taken the brunt of it. Eventually, Sheriff Stilinski had convinced his son to give his grieving friend some space, and to let her make contact when she was ready. So when Emma walked into his English class and occupied the seat directly behind him, he could only stare straight ahead like a frightened rabbit and rub the back of his neck (which had always been a small habit of his).

Emma was blissfully unaware of Stiles' nervousness around her and smiled at Scott when he turned around in his seat to say hello to her. She reached for her bag, which had fallen to the floor in her haste to sit down, and began pulling out her notebook. She glanced at Stiles and noticed that he was no longer rubbing the back of his neck but was focused on the teacher Emma had not registered had begun talking. Some part of her understood that her teacher had mentioned a body being found in the woods. Emma had not heard anything about the discovery and made a mental note to ask Jessica about it the next time they saw each other. Emma did not notice that as the teacher was talking, his dull voice filling the room, that Stiles and Scott had shared a look at the mention of the body. However, as the lesson began, Emma tried to focus on the work in front of her and not on Stiles or the fact that a body was found in the woods.

As English had never been Emma's favourite subject, she was eternally grateful that the lesson was interrupted for even a short moment by the Vice Principal entering the class and ushering a girl Emma had never seen before into the room. The only way Emma could even think of describing the girl was as a modern day Snow White. With her pale skin and long curling black hair, the new girl looked like the animated character brought to life. The new girl was introduced as Allison Argent who shyly smiled at the staring students before quickly making her way to the only vacant seat left in the room.

Allison sat down in the plastic chair and Scott almost immediately turned around and offered her a pen. She looked at him in in confusion for a moment before taking the pen from his outstretched hand and smiling to herself. Alison was still confused however, as to how the boy she had yet to be introduced to had known that she had forgotten to take a pen to school.

Emma was stolen of the opportunity to introduce herself to the new girl by the teacher beginning his lesson. It wasn't until the end of the school day that Emma and Allison met each other.

-X-

Ryan Lucas, Jessica's boyfriend, was a member of the championship winning lacrosse team along with Lydia Martin's boyfriend Jackson Whittemore (the captain of the team). As such, Emma was often dragged to watch the lacrosse practices by both Lydia and Jessica. That day, the three girls were joined by Allison Argent, whom Lydia explained was her 'new best friend'.

"Hi Allison, I'm Emma," she waved at the initially shy girl sitting on the bleacher next to her, before pointing to Jessica. "And this is Jessica".

Jessica glanced at Allison, offering her a quick smile, before returning her attention back to the lacrosse field and staring at her boyfriend warming up.

"Oh, hi, you're in my English class right?" Allison asked Emma, tucking her hair behind her ear as she did so.

"Yeah, I'm in the seat next to you." There was a short pause between the girls, neither really knowing what to say to each other and both hoping that either Lydia or Jessica would pull them out of the awkward silence.

"So, uh, where did you move from?" Emma really hated small talk but she figured that it was better to get to know Allison than to simply sit in uncomfortable silence.

"San Francisco." Allison offered with a small smile. "We move around a lot for my dad's work".

Lydia tapped Allison's arm to get her attention before gesturing to players on the field.

"Ok, so Jackson's over there," she pointed to her boyfriend with a proud smirk on her face. "That's Danny talking to Greenberg." Before Lydia could continue naming the players, Allison found her attention wandering to the floppy brown haired boy who had given her his pen.

"Who is that?" She asked, gesturing to Scott who was facing away from the girls.

"Him?" Lydia questioned to make sure that Allison was actually referring to the boy who she had never given the time of day to or to one of the more popular boys. "Not sure who he is."

Emma rolled her eyes at Lydia. "He's Scott McCall".

Sometimes Emma couldn't believe that Lydia would think herself so above everyone else that she didn't bother to learn people's names. A small part of Emma knew that Lydia's attitude was just an act and that she really did care about people besides herself and Jackson. However, that small part of Emma was made even smaller by Lydia's following question.

"Why?" Lydia's voice was filled with such disdain at even having to speak about someone who wasn't a part of the popular clique.

"He's in my English class", Allison replied, a bit cautious of Lydia's tone but couldn't help her mind drifting back to wanting to know more about Scott McCall.

As Allison was thinking about getting to know Scott, Emma found herself looking at Stiles Stilinski. He was a member of the lacrosse team, but not an active member; he was, as Jackson Whittemore so _affectionately_ put it 'a bench warmer'. Stiles never took part in the matches but every time Emma watched one of the games she silently hoped that that would be the day that Stiles was allowed to play. So far, he had only ever occupied that bench. As Emma watched him, she noticed him exaggeratedly wince and rub his shaved head, and heard the watching crowd wince in sympathy. Looking up in confusion, Emma noticed Scott flat on his back in the goal and clutching at his head.

"What happened?" Emma whispered to Jessica who grimaced.

"McCall got hit on the head with a ball".

Emma winced, knowing full well just how sore that could be. Scott recovered quickly and shook the embarrassment off and prepared himself for the next player to attempt to score a goal. This time, Scott managed to catch the ball aimed at him, much to everyone's surprise as it was no secret that Scott was not good at lacrosse. Even Stiles let out at surprised shout at his best friend's ability to actually catch the ball. Player after player tried to throw the ball past Scott but each time he caught it, not one managing to slip by him. The more throws he caught, the more the excitement in the crowd grew and soon people were cheering for Scott and his new found abilities.

Emma and Jessica shared a look of pure confused excitement, their mouths hanging slightly open as they turned back to the fields to stare at Scott. Jessica managed to catch Ryan's eye who merely shrugged his shoulders, confused just as much as everyone else. Emma could see Stiles bouncing in his seat, barely able to contain his exhilaration.

Emma whispered a quiet "oh no" when she noticed Jackson striding purposefully towards the front of the line of players trying the beat Scott. He pushed Ryan aside with his lacrosse stick and Emma could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. Jackson _did not_ like for anyone to be better than him. Emma and Jessica glanced at each other once again, this time with faces filled with nervous anticipation. They hated to think what Jackson would do if Scott managed to catch the ball Jackson would throw at him.

Jackson began to run at Scott, cradling the ball in his lacrosse stick, and Emma raised her hand to her temple as if she was going to shield her eyes but she found that she couldn't look away. As Jackson leapt into the air to throw the ball, everything stilled for a moment as if everyone was simultaneously holding their breath.

Scott caught the ball.

It was as if an explosion had occurred as everyone who had been sitting jumped to their feet and began cheering. Even Lydia jumped to her feet to cheer for Scott, knowing full well how angry that would make Jackson. Stiles was whooping and cheering in astonishment for his friend.

"Go Scott!" Emma and Jessica screamed while clapping their hands.

Stiles, hearing Emma's voice, turned to the bleachers to watch her jumping in joy for his best friend and for a moment wished that she was cheering for him. Stiles was momentarily distracted by the sight of her red hair flashing in the sunlight before he realised that Emma was actually speaking to him.

"Stiles!" Emma waved her hand to catch his attention, wondering what he had been staring of into space at. "When did he learn to do that?" She shouted over the noise of the crowd once she had gained his focus.

Stiles simply shrugged his shoulders, a simultaneously bewildered and excited look on his face, as his way of an answer before he quickly turned back to the field to congratulate Scott. Emma frowned at his back; recently Stiles had been more and more awkward around her and would fidget incessantly whenever she spoke to him. Emma understood that they were no longer best friends but they had always remained friendly to each other. She couldn't help but wonder what had caused the change in him.

As the crowd began to settle down, Jessica departed, claiming that she was going to speak to Ryan but Emma suspected that 'speak' was code for 'kiss'.

"You're coming to my party Friday night, right?" Emma realised that Lydia was addressing her so she turned to face Lydia whose hand was firmly planted on her hip and her bag hanging from the crook of her elbow.

"Um, yeah…yeah. I should be able to make it."

"Good." Lydia flipped her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and began to walk away from the two remaining girls.

"I'm going to go have a word with Jackson." Lydia called over her shoulder and Emma knew that in this case 'have a word with' was more likely to be code for 'scold' than anything else.

"Are you heading out or staying behind?" Emma asked Allison who was still seated.

"I'm heading out too.'

The two girls made their way to the car park, chatting as they went. Emma discovered that Allison had lived in San Francisco for a year before moving to Beacon Hills (which according to Allison was a long time to stay in one place) while Allison discovered that Emma had never lived anywhere but Beacon Hills. Allison had taken gymnastics for eight years; Emma loved to sing even though she was terrible at it, but not the kind of terrible were she really knows she is good, no, Emma was the kind of terrible that is just plain _terrible_. Despite the fact that the two girls were rather different from one another, Emma found herself warming to Allison; in turn, Allison found herself warming to Emma, despite the fact that she had initially thought that Emma was a bit cold. Emma laughed at this and put it down to her 'resting bitch face'.

As the two girls parted ways, Emma wished that Allison would change her mind about not going to Lydia's party that Friday night, knowing that it would be a good opportunity for Allison to meet her other classmates. Another part of Emma wished that Stiles would make an appearance at Lydia's. Though she knew that this was not likely to happen given that neither he nor Scott were ever invited to either of Lydia or Jackson's parties, Emma still couldn't help but hope. She wanted to talk to Stiles properly, not just the passing comments in school, to find out why he had suddenly started treating her differently. She worried that she had done something to upset him but could not for the life of her figure out what it was. She wracked her brain as she walked home to come up with a reason but her mind drew a blank. Emma found herself wishing that Stiles would sneak into Lydia's party if he had to. She just wanted to speak to him and clear the air if she had to. She also wanted to ignore the weird butterflies that had started up in her stomach when she thought of Stiles' hazel brown eyes and the splattering of moles and freckles across his face. She especially did not want to think of his hands as he rubbed the back of his neck or his gangly movements. No, this was the same Stiles that she was best friends with as a child. She did not think of him in any other way.


	2. Chapter 2 - Friday Night

Jessica Reynolds liked pretty things. One of her dads, no one was sure which one, had nicknamed her Little Magpie when they adopted her. When she was a baby, she appeared to collect anything sparkly she could get her tiny hands on and so the name stuck. As Jessica grew up, that remained the same. Jessica seemed naturally drawn to glittering necklaces and sparkling bracelets, pretty dresses and soft cardigans. She loved them all. Of course, she loved them within reason and found that she could love them from a distance if she could not afford them. She worked in a small café to earn money to buy the pretty things she loved as her fathers insisted she learn the value of money.

Her dad, Franklin Reynolds, was a stout car salesman whose suits were always too big and his tie always set at a slight angle. He never wore black suits, claiming that they should be reserved solely for funerals and weddings; in precisely that order since he believed that even wearing black at a wedding was too grim. Therefore, he only owned one suit in black with the rest being grey, blue and brown. His light brown, almost blonde, hair was always ruffled no matter how much time he spent styling it into place.

Franklin's husband, Grayson, was the opposite. Jessica's father, Grayson Reynolds, was a serious man, working as a doctor in the local hospital. He enjoyed that his first name sounded like a second name, believing that it gave him a certain gravitas. Grayson appreciated a good black suit, claiming that they suited any occasion (even events that weren't funerals or weddings), much to his husband's annoyance.

The nickname Little Magpie was coined after baby Jessica stole her father's stethoscope and hid it in her crib. This incident lead to many light-hearted arguments centring around who created the name. Her father claimed that since it was his stethoscope it was logical that he had crafted the name. Whereas, her dad claimed that since he was the one to find Jessica clutching the stethoscope it made sense for him to be the creator of 'Little Magpie'. Sixteen years after the name was created, the argument was yet to be resolved (both being rather stubborn men).

Jessica always looked forward to the parties thrown by Lydia Martin as they gave her an excuse to wear the pretty dresses she worked hard to buy. They also meant that she was allowed to play dress up. She adored doing Emma's makeup for the parties they attended, despite knowing that Emma was capable of doing it herself. Jessica would plan at least one day in advance thinking about what she could do with Emma's hair and makeup after she figured herself out. As such she always insisted in knowing what Emma was planning on wearing before the party. This led to much frustration on her part when Emma hadn't decided what she was going to wear to Lydia's party that night.

"What do you mean you've not decided yet?" Jessica narrowed her eyes at Emma as the two stood at their lockers on Friday afternoon.

"I just haven't really thought about it yet," Emma shrugged her shoulders and shut her locker door with a bang. "I'll probably just wear that red dress again. You know the one with the lace back."

Jessica simultaneously sighed and groaned making a noise that sounded completely unnatural coming out of her mouth. As Jessica gathered her textbooks together, she riffled through her brain to think of the dress Emma was talking about. Burrowing her eyebrows in concentration, she vaguely recalled the dress but she soon realised that the red dress with the lace back was in no way acceptable.

"Nope! No, no, no. You _cannot_ wear that. You wore it last time," She tilted her head to the side, as she flicked through the catalogue of Emma's dresses she had stored in her mind.

Emma knew better than to disturb Jessica when she was planning – she had made that mistake before and the look Jessica gave her made her want to run away and hide – so she left Jessica to her thoughts as they slowly made their way through the school hallway to the cafeteria. They quickly found a table and sat down across from each other, Jessica still in deep concentration. Her eyebrows were furrowed, her eyes narrowed and her fingers tapping rhythmically on the table top. When Jessica was this far deep in concentration it was almost impossible to get her attention. However, if she hadn't started the finger tapping then there was a slim chance she could be brought back to reality. Emma had no idea how long Jessica would remain in this state so she pulled her lunch out of her bag and began eating the sandwiches her mother had made the night before.

When Emma woke up that morning, she noticed that there wasn't a mug waiting to be washed in the sink, meaning that her mother had most likely slept through the night for a change. When Delia Moore couldn't sleep she would sit on the kitchen floor with a mug of tea in one hand and a book in the other while she waited to be tired enough to go back to bed. Emma smiled to herself as she sat in the school cafeteria, glad that her mother was finally getting some sleep.

Ryan slid into the seat next to Jessica and kissed her cheek. Jessica barely acknowledged him but did mumble a small greeting before recommencing her tapping.

"What's up with her?"

Emma raised an eyebrow and answered, "She's trying to decide what I should wear tonight".

A look of recognition swept across his face as he realised that he should stop trying to get Jessica's attention, lest he face her wrath.

"Hey, have the police said anything more about that body they found?" Emma asked Ryan, remembering that she had forgotten to talk to Jessica about it the day before.

"Um…I think they're questioning people about it but I don't know if they've charged anyone yet," he answered with a shrug of his shoulders and quickly swallowing a bite of his sandwich. "It's weird but isn't it? Nothing like that ever happens here." He took another bite of his sandwich (which was basically the size of the whole thing) and Emma looked at him, mystified at the amount of food he could fit in his mouth.

"Well there was the Hale House fire."

"Nah," Ryan scoffed. "That was an accident, doesn't count."

"Suppose," as Emma spoke Jessica interrupted her with a squeak of delight and slapped her hand on the table, causing a few heads to look in their direction.

"Okay, you're going to wear that navy dress with the blue flowers on the skirt of it, that skinny brown belt with the matching shoes, that flower necklace your mom gave you for your birthday last year and those bracelets I gave you for Christmas." She grinned triumphantly at Emma, all traces of deep concentration wiped from her face before turning to Ryan. "Hey you," she grinned, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"What are you wearing tonight then?" Emma questioned and watched as Jessica's eyes lit up in excitement but before she could answer, Lydia slid into the set next to Emma with Jackson sitting in the seat next to Ryan and Allison sitting in the seat on Lydia's other side.

"So, what are we talking about?" Lydia asked.

"What we're wearing to your party tonight." Lydia's eyes lit up just like Jessica's had but before she could join in she was interrupted by Jackson's groan of annoyance.

"No! We _are not_ talking about that!" Jackson's eyes flitted around the cafeteria before landing on the back of Scott McCall's head. "We're talking about McCall." His eyes locked on Emma, "you're still friends with Tweedledum and Tweedledee right?" He said jerking his head in Scott and Stiles' direction.

"Sort of, yeah…why?"

"What's he on?" He asked abruptly.

"What? Who?" Emma asked, thoroughly confused.

"_McCall,_" Jackson gritted his teeth and moved his gaze back to glare at Scott's head. "He has to be on something. There's _no way_ he got that good at lacrosse that quickly."

Emma could hear Lydia huff in annoyance beside her, clearly Jackson had been bothering her about it all day.

"Here's a wild idea: maybe he just practised a lot. You know, that thing people to do to get better at something." Emma fired back, annoyed at Jackson who shifted his glare back to her.

"Whatever." Jackson growled, returning his stare back to Scott. "I _know _he's on something. I just need to find out what".

"You can't be serious, Jackson. This is Scott McCall: little puppy dog, wouldn't hurt a fly, Scott McCall we're talking about." Emma gave him a pointed look, trying to show him that believing Scott could be taking steroids was a ludicrous idea.

"Listen Moore," Jackson hissed, never taking his eyes off of Scott. "I know what I'm talking about, I just need to wait for him to slip up and then expose him for the cheater he is."

Emma bit her tongue, realising that arguing with him was just going to give her a sore head. Jackson was one of the most stubborn people she had ever met and it was something she both admired and detested about him.

"Okay," Ryan nervously laughed, trying to diffuse some of the tension that had settled on the table. "Are you coming to lacrosse practise?" He asked Jessica and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Nope, sorry," she said, popping the 'p'. "Emma's coming to mine so we can get ready for tonight. You're okay to come over right?" She addressed Emma, an expectant look upon her face.

"Yeah," Emma answered, nodding her head in confirmation. "Are you sure you can't make it tonight?" She asked Allison whom she noticed had become uncomfortable under Jackson's suspicions about Scott.

"Actually, I am coming," Allison grinned sheepishly. "Scott's taking me."

"What? When did this happen?" Emma smiled at Allison, glad that if someone was going to take an interest in her that it was Scott who Emma thought couldn't have been more of a sweetheart.

Before Allison could answer, Jackson nearly spit out the gulp of water he had been about to drink and his eyes practically bulged out of his head. He swallowed quickly, staring intently at Allison.

"Scott McCall? Or Scott Nelson?" Jackson seethed forcing the alleviated tension to descend once more upon the table.

"McCall." Allison answered, and Emma was pleasantly surprised to find a look of steely determination plastered over her face; Emma realised that she had grossly misjudged Allison, she was not as shy as Emma thought she was.

"You can't be ser-…" but before he could finish his sentence, he was silenced by a flick of Lydia's hand as she interrupted him and defused the situation before he could erupt.

"Jackson!" She gave him a pointed look. "Do you know what you're going to wear?" She addressed Allison who smiled at her, glad that the conversation wasn't headed into an argument.

Emma always marvelled at Lydia's ability to diffuse any situation before it got out of hand, particularly were Jackson was concerned. With Lydia's quick dismissal of the previous conversation the group managed to return to some civility. Jackson quickly pulled Ryan into a conversation about the upcoming lacrosse practice but Emma could still hear Scott's name being mentioned every now and again. Allison was nervous about her date with Scott, but the girls were quick to reassure her that everything would be fine with Emma chiming in with a few embarrassing stories about Scott when he was a child to lessen Allison's nervousness.

From the corner of her eye, Emma could see Stiles and Scott throwing grapes at each other, aiming for each other's mouths. Emma laughed when she noticed Stiles flailing his arms over his head as he jumped to catch a grape that Scott had thrown at him.

Stiles, hearing Emma's laugh twisted his head around to look at her only to find her looking right back at him. His eyes widened in panic that he had been caught looking at her and nearly fell out of his seat in an attempt to turn away from her. Emma giggled at his behaviour and felt a blush creeping up her cheeks and warming her face. She shook her head to try and distract herself; she did not blush at anything Stiles Stilinski did.

"Oh my God!" Jessica stage whispered to Emma.

Emma glanced at her in confusion, "What?"

"You are totally blushing at Twitch!" Jessica's mouth was dropped open in a surprised O and her eyes were wide but there was a hint of a smile in them.

"What are you talking about? Who's Twitch?"

Jessica gave her an unconvinced look and cocked an eyebrow. "You know exactly who I'm talking about, Emma Moore."

"Stiles!" Emma hissed back, trying to keep quiet. "No, no way." She said the last part louder than she had expected, drawing Lydia's attention away from Allison and towards the two friends.

"What's going on?" Lydia asked, clearly slipping into gossip mode and pulling Allison into the conversation with her.

"Nothing," Emma answered at the same time that Jessica squealed: "Emma was blushing."

"Ooh, tell tell!" Lydia's eyes glistened at the prospect of gossip.

"There's nothing to tell, Jess is just over exaggerating." Lydia examined Emma sceptically for a moment.

"You know, I can just about put up with Allison and Scott being a thing but I don't think I could deal with you and McCall's sidekick." Lydia flicked her hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms in front of her on the table.

Emma looked at her gobsmacked, wondering how Lydia had even come to the conclusion.

"No, there's nothing going on," Emma tried to reassure Lydia, and tried to suppress the small part of her that cried out in indignation. She had found herself often looking for Stiles in class – which wasn't hard to do given that he always seemed to either be talking loudly or flailing around – and couldn't help that she had caught herself staring at the back of his shaved head when she sat behind him, hoping that he would turn around and talk to her.

"Good," Lydia responded with a quick nod of her head though there was still a hint of suspicion in her eyes.

In that moment the three other girls could see why Lydia was considered the 'Queen B' of the school. It wasn't just the popularity, her intelligence, the clothes she wore, or her boyfriend (though those factors did help), it was the way she carried herself and the way she demanded respect without having to ask for it. Lydia carried herself with her shoulders squared and her head held high; when she walked into a room, she instantly had everyone's attention. No questions asked. Yes, Lydia Martin was a force to be reckoned with.

"You're still coming over on Saturday right?" Lydia flipped the subject once more. "You too Allison," she smiled.

Jessica and Emma nodded in agreement while Allison glanced at Lydia in puzzlement.

"I thought your party was tonight?" She asked with a hint of panic in her voice, momentarily believing that she had gotten the day of her date wrong.

"It is, but we always get together the day after a party for a girls day."

"Oh, yeah, I should be able to make it."

"Good, I'll text you the details later."

The rest of the school day flew by at an alarming rate, so much so that Emma failed to remember much from the classes that separated her from the end of the day. She waited in apprehension for Lydia's party. A part of her was looking forward to letting loose, enjoying herself and hopefully talking to Stiles. But another, more dominant part, was worried that her confused feelings for Stiles were too obvious. She could not understand how Lydia had known that Jessica was referring to Stiles during their conversation at lunch. Emma was sure that she had not let any of her growing feelings for him show. She should have known however, that Lydia would have clicked onto Emma's feelings. She was Lydia Martin after all, and it seemed like Lydia was always two steps ahead of everyone else.

Emma was unsure if her feelings for Stiles were the result of genuine attraction or if she was just beginning to miss him speaking to her since he had recently become distant. She couldn't help the warmth that spread throughout her when she pictured Stiles, yet she wondered if her feelings for him could ever deepen, given that they hardly spoke to each other. The conflict in her mind only made her all the more determined to speak with Stiles, even if only for a short moment, to help her sort her feelings out.

She exited the school and entered into the bright sunlight. She quickly located Jessica's car in the parking lot and headed towards it to wait for Jessica to arrive. She did not have to wait for long before Jessica's blonde curls could be seen bobbing up and down between the cars.

"Ready?" She asked once she reached Emma who replied with a small: "yep."

The two girls clambered into Jessica's car, a small silver thing her dad had given her when she passed her driving test. It made an odd noise when the heating was switched on, like a baby monster was hidden in the heating systems, but other than that it was a perfectly fine car. Jessica named it Wanda.

"Okay, so we'll stop off at your house, pick up your stuff then head to mine?" Jessica asked before switching on the ignition.

"Sounds good," Emma replied, trying to hide the worry in her voice. She was always a bit cautious when Jessica drove her home in case Wanda decided to break down.

Luckily for both girls, the car started with no problem and they joined the line of cars waiting to exit the parking lot. As they waited they noticed Jackson, in full lacrosse gear, making his way towards the field. The two girls shared a look before they began discussing his behaviour at lunch.

"What was that all about earlier?"

"It was really weird. I don't know why he would think that Scott is doing drugs. I mean this is Scott McCall we're talking about. Neither Scott or Stiles would ever even think of doing something like that." At the mention of Stiles' name Jessica swivelled her head round to look at Emma, raising an eyebrow and smirking; Emma immediately regretted her choice of words but chose to ignore Jessica as she continued. "Scott probably just practised a lot without anyone noticing to get as good as he was the other day. That's all; he's definitely not on drugs." Emma laughed, hoping that Jessica wouldn't bring the conversation back to Stiles.

Luck was not on Emma's side.

"Forget about McCall, let's talk about Twitch!" Jessica giggled while Emma internally groaned.

"Don't call him that, it's not nice," Emma lightly scolded but Jessica just rolled her eyes. "There's nothing to talk about," Emma replied as Jessica drove the car out of the parking lot and began heading towards Emma's house.

"Oh come on, Ems!" Jessica whined. "You were totally blushing when you locked eyes with him earlier!"

"No I wasn't," Emma tried to deny but knew that she didn't sound convincing at all.

"Are you seriously trying to deny it right now?" Jessica knew Emma well enough to notice a gradual change in her friend. Emma had begun to drop Stiles' name into general conversation without even realising that she was doing it more than usual and Jessica had even caught her looking shyly at Stiles when she thought no one could see. Jessica wasn't stupid; she could see that her friend was beginning to develop feelings for Twitch.

Emma didn't really know how to answer Jessica. Her mind was conflicted in regards to Stiles. She couldn't help but remember that this was the Stiles that she had been best friends with when they were young, the exact same Stiles she had shared a bubble bath with when she was two. Though, when she looked at him, she found that her pulse would race that little bit faster, her cheeks would heat up and she felt a sort of _nervousness _around him, almost as if she was waiting in anticipation for him to speak to her. She wasn't sure how to answer Jessica just yet so she decided to change the subject away from Stiles.

"Allison seems nice." She hoped that Jessica would go along with the new subject.

There was a pause in the car in which both girls sat in silence. Jessica wanted to gain an answer from Emma but knew what it was like to be unsure about your feelings for someone, especially when those feelings were so new and fresh. She could understand Emma's hesitation to answer her, given that Emma was much more closed off than she was. Jessica decided to allow Emma to change the subject, even momentarily, but vowed to return to the topic of Emma and Stiles later on.

"Yeah, I've not spoken to her much. She seems a bit quiet, though it's probably just 'cause she's new and hasn't settled in properly yet." Emma breathed a sigh of relief as Jessica allowed her to change the direction of the conversation. "Mind you," she continued. "I bet you she's got some weird hobby or something she's keeping from us. It's always the quiet ones you've got to watch out for." Jessica laughed and Emma couldn't help but grin at her, feeling herself slowly relax again.

Soon after, Jessica was parking in front of Emma's house which was a small two storey structure which had no unique identifying features about it. The small garden gnome guarding the front door with a steely expression plastered on his face, unusual for that kind of garden ornament, was the only exception. The inside of the house was just as unremarkable as the outside. The walls were a muted neutral tone and the floors were all the same plain wood. The pictures that adorned the walls were the only defining features but overall, the house gave the impression that it wasn't truly lived in, almost as if it were a show home.

"Hi mom!" Emma shouted into the house, unsure where her mother was.

She heard her mother's muffled reply coming from upstairs and gestured for Jessica to follow her. When they reached the top of the stairs, passing by multiple baby pictures, Emma paused outside of her mother's bedroom door.

"I'm not too sure what dress you were talking about so do you mind looking for it while I say hi to mom?"

Jessica nodded her agreement and headed towards Emma's bedroom, leaving the other girl behind. Emma cracked her mother's door open slightly, hoping that her mother had had one of her good days. Upon entering the room, Emma noticed the first good sign: the curtains were open and sunlight was streaming into the room. The second good sign was that her mother was fully dressed and sitting at her desk typing away at her computer. Delia Moore worked from home, organising the finances for a local boutique, so would often spend the entire day in the house. She tried to make the effort to leave the house at least three times a week.

"Hi mom," Emma said from the doorway, waiting for her mother to turn around.

When Delia did turn around, Emma quietly breathed a sigh of relief as she noticed that some of the sadness that sometimes occupied her eyes was nowhere to be seen. Delia smiled a small smile at her daughter, noticing how much time had passed since she had truly taken notice of her daughter aging. Emma was no longer the little girl that Delia still sometimes viewed her as; instead she had grown into a young adult capable of looking after herself. Sometimes Delia wished that Emma was still that little girl who would hold her hand to cross the road and would get in flour fights with her when they made cookies. However, Delia knew that this wasn't possible but still she couldn't stop herself from wishing it was true. Delia steadily rose from her chair and crossed the room to pull Emma into a hug. This action surprised Emma who wasn't used to her mother behaving in such a way. Usually Delia didn't like being touched but when she did embrace Emma, she hugged back with everything she had, trying to pour every ounce of love she had for her mother into the embrace.

"How was school?" Delia asked as she pulled away from Emma.

"Fine, the usual. Jackson Whittemore's convinced Scot McCall's on steroids or something because he's suddenly gotten good at lacrosse," Emma rolled her eyes while her mother furrowed her brows.

"Little Scott McCall? The one you used to be friends with?" When Emma nodded her head in response Delia laughed, something Emma barely heard anymore but thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world. "That's just ridiculous," Delia continued. "I highly doubt little Scott would do that."

"That's what I said, but Jackson's like a dog with a bone. It'll probably take him a while to get over it."

"Is that Jessica in your room?" Delia asked. "Oh, you've got a party tonight right?"

"Um, yeah. But I think I'll just skip it and stay home instead," in that moment Emma forgot about her want to speak to Stiles, all she could think about was making the best of her mother's good mood.

"Don't be silly, you can stay home any night. Go out, have some fun." Delia smiled and Emma knew that she would never be able to argue her mother down no matter how much she wanted to.

"Oh, okay. Um…what time do you want me back for?" Emma was no longer desperate to go to Lydia's party but knew that her mother would not allow her to stay in.

"What time do you think it'll end? What about one o'clock?"

"One sounds good, but I think it'll probably end before that," Emma knew that this wasn't true and that Lydia's parties always stretched into the early hours of the morning but she wanted an excuse to leave early, if only to make sure that her mother was fine.

"Well, come home when you want just not after one. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Okay then, off you go, I'm sure Jessica's fed up waiting on you," She began to turn away from Emma but stopped herself before she turned her back completely. "Remember to eat something before you go, if you're going to be drinking you don't want to be sick."

"Yeah, will do," Emma smiled at her mom, she really didn't want to go anymore but she didn't want her mother to think that she was hovering.

As Emma turned to leave the bedroom she heard her mother speak again, "I love you Ems." Emma stopped in her tracks. Delia hadn't called her Ems in years; it was only Jessica that called her that now.

"I love you too mom."

When Emma entered her bedroom, she found Jessica sitting patiently on the end of the bed with a backpack filled with Emma clothes at her feet.

"Ready?" Jessica chirped and the two girls headed out of the house and into Jessica's car once more.

When Jessica and Emma arrived at Lydia's house, the day had died and the night had come alive. Music blared from the speakers beside the pool and people were already stumbling about, the alcohol going straight to their heads. Off key signing could be heard streaming from the living room, accompanied by a boy playing an old guitar and trying to get the crowd back in key

Emma walked through the hallway of Lydia's house, a red solo cup in one hand, and she searched for one of her friends. She exchanged pleasantries with a few people as she passed ("Love your dress, where did you get it?" "Gorgeous shoes!") but she never stopped for long. Jessica had left her when she had spotted Ryan and Emma was left to wander around and avoid Greenberg's unwanted advances. She spotted Danny in the kitchen pouring himself a drink so she made her way through the throngs of teenagers and hugged his waist from behind.

"Hey Danny boy," she giggled and Danny smiled at her over his shoulder quirking an eyebrow at her.

"You. Me. Shots. Now." He pulled away from her embrace and, grabbing her hand, led her towards the kitchen countertop where there were at least five bottles of vodka lined up.

Emma giggled as Danny clinked his shot glass with hers before they both downed the drink. The liquid burned her tongue as it slipped down her throat. She scrunched up her face at the horrible taste but the minute Danny filled up her shot glass again and handed it to her, she completely forgot about how horrible the drink tasted. She downed the drink again and giggled as she nearly tripped up even though she was standing still. Danny grinned at her and poured their third shot. They quickly finished that shot and Emma could barely feel the burn of it. She grabbed Danny's hand and stumbled out of the kitchen with him in tow.

"We're dancing!" She shouted over the music as the two exited the house.

"Don't have to ask me twice!" Danny laughed and twirled Emma around.

The two began twirling around each other, shouting the lyrics to the song playing in each other's faces and waving their arms in the air. The two had a dance routine they only ever whipped out once they were sufficiently drunk and the right song came on. Their eyes widened at each other and grins split across their faces as _Born This Way_ blared out of the speakers. They roared with laughter as they spun each other around and jumped in the air, laughing harder when Emma tripped and nearly sent a couple flying into the pool.

The two linked arms and stumbled away from the glaring couple. They made their way back to the kitchen and downed two more shots. Emma didn't want to admit to herself just how drunk she had become and just how quickly, she did not want Danny to start calling her a lightweight.

"So, Miss Moore," Danny rushed out, leaning down so that he was eye level with Emma.

"Yes, Mr Mahealani." She leaned towards him and winked.

"Who've you got your eye on?" He asked in what was supposed to be a whisper.

"Wha? None. No one," Emma tried to lie but failed as her voice hitched.

"Sure 'bout that?" Danny wiggled his eyebrows at her and winked.

"Wha' 'bout you?" Emma slurred, trying to change the subject.

"Don't try…don't try to change the subject." He wrapped his arm around Emma's shoulder and turned her around to face the door way were Stiles was standing chatting to a boy from their English class. "Wha' 'bout Stilinski?"

Emma could feel her cheeks heat up and buried her face in Danny's chest, partly to hide her blush and partly to stop herself from falling over.

"Go talk to him," Danny commanded playfully and bumped her hip with his.

"One more shot, for…uh," she struggled to think of the word. "Oh, courage! One more for courage!"

Danny grinned at her and proceeded to pour them another shot, getting more vodka on the countertop than in the glasses. Emma turned the faucet on after finishing the shot and stuck her mouth under the running water, taking a large gulp. She knew that she was drinking water too late in the game to stop a hangover but she figured that she might as well try.

"You're stalling," Danny frowned at her but laughed when she gave him her 'puppy dog' eyes. "Go!" He laughed again and gave her a slight shove in Stiles' direction.

Emma sent Danny a half-hearted glare over her shoulder but he only waved his hand at her and turned to begin chatting up a cute boy from his chemistry class. Emma spun back around and noticed that Stiles was by himself in the doorway so, taking a deep breath, Emma tried to steady herself as she danced her way towards him. She hugged him from behind and felt him startle slightly before her relaxed, realising who was hugging him.

"Hey stranger," Emma giggled and moved round him so that she was facing him.

"Hey Emma, good party huh?" Stiles desperately tried to look at Emma's face and not at her cleavage peeking out of the top of her dress.

"You weren't invited," Emma stated, struggling to keep a straight face as Stiles floundered trying to think of a response.

"Oh, um…I uh…well you see. See the thing is…" Stiles stumbled over his words and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Stiles!" Emma laughed, placing her hands on his shoulders which were more muscular than she had imagined them to be and for a moment forgot what she had wanted to say. "I'm messin' with you." She giggled and this time Stiles laughed with her.

"How've you been? I haven't spoken to you in ages," Emma whined as she grabbed his hand and led to a quieter area.

Emma couldn't help the blush that crept up her cheeks at the feeling of Stiles' large hand in her smaller one. She was glad that she was still in front of Stiles, leading him away from the kitchen, so that he couldn't see her face.

"Ya know, the usual," Stiles tried to remember what she had asked him as he watched her hips sway as she walked.

"We're okay right? You and me?" She asked him as she reached her intended destination, the staircase.

"Um, yeah. What do you mean?" Stiles asked as he sat down, gulping when Emma stood between his legs and gazed down at him.

"I don't know. I just feel like we've been a little distant lately. Do you know what I mean?"

Stile's stared into Emma's eyes and marvelled at the mixture of colours in them; for a moment he thought that they looked like the sky moments before a thunderstorm and couldn't stop himself form smiling slightly before he remembered that she was waiting on an answer. He missed talking to Emma and looking into her eyes.

"I've just been a bit busy lately," Stiles nodded his head, only telling her a small part of the truth.

"Sorry," Emma stared at her feet, avoiding looking at Stiles. "I guess I'm just being a bit silly." She rubbed her hand across her forehead and let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

"Hey, hey, no you've not." Stiles grabbed her hand, feeling guilty that she blamed herself for Stiles distancing himself from her.

When Stiles grabbed her hand, Emma immediately looked up and caught Stiles looking right at her. Usually, when they caught each other staring, they would quickly look away and then shyly look back. This time, however, they stayed staring at each other. Neither of them noticed the music playing in the background or the sound of teenagers counting to three as they took their shots. They didn't notice the couple kissing behind them or the two girls that had just exited the downstairs bathroom, sloppy grins on their faces. What they did notice, was that Stiles was still holding Emma's hand in his, that Emma's free hand was delicately placed on Stiles' shoulder and that neither had looked away yet. Emma couldn't help but notice the way that Stile's hazel eyes seemed to glow golden in the dim lighting and that she could barely make out the small splattering of moles across his face. Stiles noticed that Emma gripped his hand a little tighter, intertwining her fingers with his, her body unconsciously leaning into his. The hand on his shoulder made a shiver run up his spine. As they stared at each other, their breathing became slightly heavier and a flash of nervousness crossed both of their faces. Stiles leaned closer to Emma, so close that he could make out the faint birthmark just below her ear. The air was charged with electricity neither had felt before, it made their breathing shallow as they gazed at each other in anticipation. Stiles internally groaned when he saw Emma lightly bite her lip.

They both leaned into each other, their faces inches apart when Stiles remember seeing Emma stumbling as she walked and danced with Danny. He remembered hearing her slurring her words. Stiles wanted to kiss Emma; he craved to feel her lips on his and to feel the electricity move from his shoulder to his mouth. But he didn't want their first kiss to be because she was drunk. He wanted the kiss between them to be real and sober, a kiss that wasn't the result of alcohol. He pulled back slightly but when Emma followed him he whispered her name. There was hint of longing in his voice and Emma looked at him in confusion, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. Stiles hated to see hurt quickly flash in her eyes but he knew that he had made the right decision. If he was going to kiss Emma Moore, his childhood best friend, he wanted it to be right.

"Emma, I…" Stiles was interrupted by Scott McCall sprinting passed them breathing heavily.

Stiles groaned, knowing that he was going to have to run after his best friend.

"Listen, Emma, I've got to go," his voice pleading for her to understand that he wasn't just running away from her.

"Oh, um, o-okay." Emma bit her lip and nodded her head, stepping away from him and refusing to look into his eyes.

"Emma, I'm so sorry, I've really got to go," Stiles gave her one last lingering look before he chased after Scott, leaving Emma alone on the stairs.

Emma frowned at the spot Stiles had just vacated. She wondered if she had done something wrong, had read the signs wrong. She had thought that he wanted to kiss her too. She was sure that she had caught him staring at her in school, and looking over at her when she spoke. Emma sank onto the step Stiles had been sitting on and began to doubt herself. She placed her head in her hands and began to think of all the signs she believed she had misread. She felt an arm wrap around her shoulders and lifted her head from her hands, hoping that Stiles had returned. Instead she found a very drunk Danny sitting next to her and an angry Jackson – with his arms crossed over his chest – in front of her.

"You okay babes?" Danny asked her squeezing her arm lightly. "We saw what happened."

Before she could answer him, Jackson remarked:

"You can do much better than Stilinski, Moore." He spat out Stiles' name but his expression softened when he looked at Emma. "I wouldn't worry about it, Stilinski's an idiot."

Jackson Whittemore was a conceited and selfish boy but he was incredibly loyal to his friends. Even though he and Emma Moore fought like cat and dog, he still considered her one of his few true friends and he did not like seeing his friends upset. In Jackson's opinion it was just trivial to be upset by anything Stilinski or McCall did.

Emma smiled lightly at Jackson, knowing that he meant well and not wanting to get into an argument with him. Danny rolled his eyes at Jackson and gripped Emma's shoulder a bit tighter.

"I don't know, did I do something wrong?" She glanced at Danny, seeing him already shaking his head at her.

"No, trust me, you did everything right," he was about to continue when Jackson interrupted him.

"Yeah, it's Stilinski that's the one with the problem." The way he spoke made it seem like it was physically painful for him to say Stile's name.

Emma smirked at Jackson and refused Danny's offer of another drink. She knew that she wasn't, but she felt suddenly sober. She wanted to go home and curl up in her bed and sleep for as long as she needed. When she told the two boys as much, Danny protested slightly, saying that it was too early for her to go home but when he saw the look on her face, he stopped talking. The two boys shared a look as Emma staggered to her feet and began to walk away from them, waving goodbye to them over her shoulder.

She looked around for Jessica, wanting to say good bye to her before she left but when she couldn't Find her, she sent her a quick text letting her know she was going home. Emma knew that the text was horribly misspelt but couldn't bring herself to care.

When she left Lydia's house, the fresh air felt like a relief to Emma. It helped to clear her head slightly and she felt herself relax. As she stood in Lydia's driveway she groaned when she realised that she had no way of getting home. She stuck her hand into the pocket of her dress and pulled out her mobile to call a taxi when she heard her name being shouted.

"Emma!"

She looked up to see Allison waving at her. Allison was standing next to a much older man. Emma had to admit that he was incredibly handsome but as she looked at him she couldn't help but shiver, and not in the same way she had shivered under Stiles' gaze. There was something about the man that intimidated Emma, almost as if she could instinctually sense that he was dangerous. His green eyes pierced into hers and Emma felt herself shrink into herself as if she were a small animal cowering away from a predator. Allison seemed perfectly at ease next to him, despite his intimidating frame as he towered over her. Emma guessed that he was easily six foot tall and knew that the top of her head would barely reach hIS shoulders. She glanced at him warily once more before slowly turning her attention back to Allison.

"Hey, Allison, is everything okay?" She asked, glancing at the man and using the tone that women use to gage if another woman is uncomfortable or in need of rescuing when someone is making advances on them.

"Yeah, well not really." Allison admitted with a sigh. "Scott and I were dancing and then I don't really know what happened, we were about to kiss and he just freaked and ran off. I ran after him but he was already gone by the time I got outside." She finished, a mixture of sadness and confusion gracing her face.

"That's weird," Emma frowned. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for it."

"Yeah," Allison sighed and Emma could see the man's jaw tighten as if he was impatient with having to listen to the girls talk. "Are you heading home?"

"Yeah, do you want to get a taxi with me?" Emma gave Allison the option, not liking the feeling she was getting from the man looming behind Allison.

"No, Scott's friend is going to give me a ride home," she nodded her head before she looked to the man Emma doubted was really Scott's friend. Before Emma could stop her Allison asked: "would you mind giving Emma a lift too?"

The man clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth before reluctantly answering: "fine".

Emma widened her eyes at Allison, trying to tell her with her eyes that there was something off about Scott's supposed friend.

"No it's okay, we can just get a taxi Allison," Emma stressed Allison's name hoping that she would catch onto what Emma was trying to say.

"Emma, it'll save you the money, Derek's fine with it." Allison smiled at Emma and Emma knew that she had lost the discussion.

Emma glanced at Derek, not liking the atmosphere he was giving off. She knew that Allison would get in the car with him even if Emma didn't agree and Emma was not going to leave Allison alone with him. So making her decision, Emma agreed to get into Derek's car, figuring that it would be harder for him to overpower two girls than one.

Emma sat in the backseat of Derek's car with her mobile clenched in her hand, 911 waiting to be dialled if he tried anything Emma didn't like. Allison sat in the passenger, completely at ease with the situation.

Emma quickly realised that Allison was going to be dropped off first and felt her heart rate pick up. She did not want to be alone in the car with Derek so when he parked the car outside of Allison's house, Emma moved to exit the car. Allison looked at her in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"I can walk from here, it's fine," she glanced at Derek and quickly looked away.

"But your house is ages away," Allison continued.

Emma groaned, making a note to have serious talk with Allison.

"I can drop you off," Derek grunted from the driver's seat, sounding like he wanted to be in the car with Emma less than she wanted to be in the car with him.

"See!" Allison smiled at Emma and left the car but quickly stuck her head back through the door. "You're going back to Lydia's tomorrow right?"

"Yeah," Emma answered quickly, just wanting to be home and away from the entire situation.

"Good! See you tomorrow then." Allison chirped and shut the car door, leaving Emma alone with Derek.

Derek sped away from Allison's house and Emma took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself down. The two sat in the car in complete silence, only the vibration of the engine could be heard. She felt Derek's eyes on her and quickly looked up realising that she hadn't given him her address. She quickly muttered it to him, tacking on a "thank you" to the end, not wanting to annoy him. It took him five minutes to reach her house, and Emma thought it was the longest five minutes of her life.

"Thanks for the lift," she chanced a glance at him and noticed him looking at her quizzically as if he were trying to solve some puzzle. It unnerved Emma to say the least. "Um, yeah, see you later."

She quickly left his car and shut the door behind her a little harsher than she had intended. She had to restrain herself from sprinting to her front door but when she did reach it, her hands were shaking so much that she struggled to hold her key properly. She dropped it a few times but relaxed when she heard the roar of Derek's car as he drove away. She let out a shaky breath, feeling like she could finally breathe as she hastily put the key in the lock and rushed into her house, locking the door behind her.

She leaned her back against the front door and took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down. She felt completely sober now as exhaustion began to take over. She took her shoes off so that she wouldn't take too much noise as she moved through the house towards her bedroom. She paused outside her mother's bedroom door and smiled slightly when she heard soft snoring coming from the room. When she entered her bedroom, she felt herself relax further, knowing that she was safe in her own room. But there was still a part of her that was frightened by Derek; there was something she couldn't quite put her finger on. All she knew was that he scared her.

Emma got herself ready for bed and as she lay down to sleep she couldn't help but hope that she never had to see Derek again.

* * *

><p><strong>Just wanted to give a big thank you to everyone who has followed this story and to green angel01 for reviewing. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and let me know what you think. Thank you again!<strong>


End file.
